


Another Door

by the_little_flower



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rise of Empire Era - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, F/M, Jedi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_little_flower/pseuds/the_little_flower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of Order 66, a young Jedi struggles to to survive.  But how can she go on when her whole life, her whole world is gone?<br/>-<br/>A survivor of the Jedi purge encounters Obi-Wan Kenobi on Tatooine and tells her story of the year since the destruction of the Order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tatooine

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter follows Obi-Wan, but it frames the rest of the story, which is POV of an original character. I'll add tags as I go, please tell me if there is anything you think should be tagged that I missed! I rated it Teen because of violence, though it's largely canon-typical. Also, this is un-beta'd, so any mistakes are my own. Although if anyone feels like being a beta, message me!  
> Enjoy!

The brilliance of two suns beat down on Tatooine, blazing through its cloudless sky, as though their only goal was to blind the inhabitants of Mos Eisley. Obi-Wan considered pulling up the hood of his thinning cloak to save his eyes, but decided that the added heat would not be worth it. Instead, he made his way through the narrow marketplace with his head slightly lowered away from the light, furrowing his brow and squinting. He still felt awkward, walking through the streets like that, looking down, half scowling at the brightness of the light. He hoped that, in time, it would feel as natural to him as it clearly did to the natives of the hot, dusty planet that had become his sanctuary and his exile. But it had been over a year since his arrival, and he still felt uncomfortable there. He was a Jedi. He was trained to defend the weak, not to hide from their oppressors.

He had been a Jedi. Obi-Wan tried to remind himself of that. Those days were over, burned away like the morning mists under Tatooine’s merciless twin suns.

Still, he could never be entirely separated from the life that he had once lived. He felt, at this point, that he could no more turn his back on the Force than he could cause Tatooine to sink into a sudden and dramatic ice age. Obi-Wan no longer had even to think to open his mind to the Force. It was simply there, always flowing through him, connecting him ever more deeply to the Living Force.

Though, Obi-Wan supposed, this was probably the only natural result of spending well over a year alone with little to do but spend most of his time in meditation.

As Obi-Wan walked through the crowded market street, most of his mind was focused on a replacement part for his water vaporator. It had broken the previous night, and although he had been able to fix it, he did not like being without spare parts. With that thought he had wandered through the back streets of Mos Eisley for the better part of an hour, eyeing displays from pawn shops and used parts dealers. He was beginning to wonder whether it was worth it to spend more of his precious little money to buy a new one, or if he should just come back in a week and hope for better luck. However, as he made his way through the maze of street vendors, a part of Obi-Wan’s mind was, as always, reaching into the Force. Though it was mostly unconscious, Obi-Wan was allowing the Force to take over his senses. He was probing through the Force, filtering through the emotions of those around him, searching for any hint of danger, any sign that the Empire had finally found its way to Tatooine.

Obi-Wan was not paying attention, and when he felt something stir in the Force, it took him a moment to realize that anything had happened. For an instant, he panicked. But only an instant, as he quickly realized that if there were any danger, he would have felt more than a stirring in the Force. He glanced around, unsure what he was looking for. The Force moved again, like a slight but sudden change in its flow. The second time, Obi-Wan recognized it immediately.

What? Obi-Wan thought, half shaking his head, unbelieving. Was that a mind trick? Who in Mos Eisley, of all places, is using the Force? And, apparently, skillfully enough to use a mind trick so subtly that I almost failed to notice? Impossible… As he was thinking, Obi-Wan found the source of his consternation: a girl, probably nineteen or twenty years old, of medium height. She was thin, but had a strong look about her, with short, nondescript brown hair. She was in the process of receiving food from a vendor who she had obviously tricked into accepting less than what the food was worth. Obi-Wan watched her for a moment, gently probing in the Force, trying to figure out who she was. He couldn’t see her face very well, but there was something unbearably familiar about her. It was obvious that she was new to Tatooine. Her light skin showed that she had not spent much time in the damaging light from the suns or the abrasive sand. Obi-Wan also saw that he was not the only one to have noticed the girl. There was a man leaning against a building not far from her, and probably more men that Obi-Wan could not see, eyeing her with a hungry look in his eyes. When the man pushed himself off of the wall and started towards her, Obi-Wan instinctively reached out to her, sending a warning through the Force.

The girl froze for a moment, the suddenly turned, dropping her food, and disappearing into the crowd. The man with less than noble intentions started to follow her, but the crowd was too thick for him to see where she had gone. Obi-Wan, on the other hand, did not need to see her to follow her. She led him through a maze of streets and alleys, Obi-Wan trailing her at a frustratingly normal pace. He itched to run after her, catch her and find out who she was. Could she possibly be a Jedi? How in the universe had she survived? But running would attract too much attention. He couldn’t afford to be that noticeable. Fortunately for him, apparently neither could the girl. For several minutes he kept pace with her, occasionally catching glimpses of her as she disappeared around a corner.

Their agonizing slow chase seemed to Obi-Wan to drag on, though it took only a few minutes. He knew the streets of Mos Eisley better than the girl did, and she knew he was catching her. Obi-Wan couldn’t tell if she did it on purpose, but she led him into a deserted alley that turned, and then dead-ended. She had turned to face him when he rounded the corner, standing with her feet spread apart and crouching slightly as though preparing to attack. A lightsaber was in her right hand, but she had not ignited it. Her eyes were narrowed in fear and anger, but they widened as Obi-Wan stepped into the alley.

“Master Kenobi?” the girl said, clearly not bothering to veil the shock in her voice. She took a step backwards, her hands falling to her sides, though her posture did not entirely relax. Obi-Wan saw incomprehension, disbelief, and fear flash simultaneously across her blue-grey eyes.

“I thought I recognized you,” Obi-Wan said, almost to himself, moving towards the girl. Her lightsaber was clearly of Jedi design, and Obi-Wan, seeing her face more clearly, remembered seeing her in the Temple on Coruscant. He tried to remember her name, but the endless questions dancing through his mind made it difficult to concentrate. How could she have possibly have survived?

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan said, “I don’t remember your name.”

The girl hesitated, then said, “Tavora. Tavora Ga’amaren.” She looked uncomfortable for a moment, looking away at nothing in particular.

Obi-Wan felt he should say something, but his mind had stopped supplying words. He felt like he was staring at a ghost. Tavora’s face bore a similarly unnerved expression of astonishment.

It was Tavora who eventually broke the silence. “I’m sorry I ran. I didn’t know it was you following me.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Obi-Wan said, trying to sound reassuring. Coherent thought was returning to him, and he began to notice how very tense Tavora looked. “I’m sure we both have a lot of questions,” Obi-Wan said slowly, “but this is not a conversation that we should risk being overheard.” He glanced around, despite the emptiness of the alley.

Tavora nodded in agreement, and followed as Obi-Wan turned and walked towards the streets. “I live in the desert, beyond the dune sea,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s a ways from here, but it’s safe.”

Neither spoke as they walked. For Obi-Wan, it was partially out of necessity. He could not inadvertently allow someone to listen in on the subjects their conversation would doubtless raise. But mostly, he simply couldn’t think of anything to say. He could barely begin to imagine how much Tavora must have been through in the past year. So many Jedi had died, even after surviving the initial slaughter of Order 66. He knew what had happened when Vader had discovered the Jedi Conclave on Kessel. Obi-Wan’s stomach gave an unpleasant twist as he was reminded of what had led Vader to the Jedi there in the first place. He had been looking for him. And Vader would kill thousands just to find him. Word continued to arrive of events such as this. Most of the remaining Jedi were looking for a safe haven, and though the planet was always different, Kashyyyk, Naboo, and so many others, the result was always the same: massacre.

For Tavora, Obi-Wan presumed, the silence would be much more frustrating. He was sure that when he had been her age, he would not have been able to keep his questions quiet. Then again, he thought, what do you say so someone you assumed was dead? Especially when, upon finding him, you discover that this person, a leader of your Order, whom you had respected and trusted, was hiding on a backwater planet like a coward?

No, Obi-Wan told himself firmly. This is not cowardly. What I am doing here may one day change the fate of the galaxy. The boy that I am protecting may live to be our only hope. I must ensure that Anakin’s son remains safely hidden from the Empire. I am not being a coward. But even as he thought this, a wave of guilt crashed over Obi-Wan. The Jedi were his family. And he was allowing them to be hunted and killed for fabricated crimes. Sometimes he felt as though he was betraying his fellow Jedi just as much as Vader had. Obi-Wan’s stomach gave another nauseating lurch.

The two Jedi reached the outskirts of the city, and Obi-Wan was relieved to find that his hidden landspeeder had not been discovered and stolen. It was old and decrepit, and Obi-Wan was not sure how much longer he would be able to keep it running. He slid into the open cockpit of the small two-seater, and it shuddered to life with a wobbling hum that sounded more like a cough. Tavora slipped into the seat next to him, and Obi-Wan coaxed the speeder up to a decent pace.

As they sped away from the city, Tavora’s voice finally brought Obi-Wan out of his reverie. “Master Kenobi,” she began hesitantly, then paused, as if she was unsure of what to say.

Neither of us knows what to say, Tavora, Obi-Wan thought. “What is it?” he asked, looking at the girl, hoping that he sounded reassuring, somehow.

When Tavora spoke again, the words came out in a rush. “What happened?” she asked. “Everything was going… well, things weren’t fine, but they were getting better. The war looked like it might end, and then…” She broke off and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she swallowed and continued. “I’ve heard so many things, but I refuse to believe that the Jedi are traitors. We gave our lives in the defense of the Republic. I don’t understand how people seem to forget that. And I keep hearing stories about the Council trying to overthrow the government. None of it makes sense.”

Obi-Wan didn’t know how to respond. Of course none of it made sense. He could explain it all, every detail, and she would not be able to understand. It would still seem as though the universe had gone suddenly insane. And perhaps it had. Perhaps that was the chaos of the Dark Side that had engulfed the galaxy.

“Did Master Windu really try to kill the Chancellor?” Tavora asked quietly.

She deserves to know the truth, at the very least, Obi-Wan thought, so he responded honestly. “Yes, he did.”

“No…” Tavora whispered, mostly to herself. “No, that can’t be the truth.”

“It is,” Obi-Wan said, “but the stories Palpatine has been circulating about it aren’t. The Council never intended to overthrow the Republic. We wanted to save it.”

“Then why kill the Chancellor? What purpose could that possibly serve?”

“He was a Sith Lord,” Obi-Wan said bluntly.

“What? Chancellor Palpatine?” Tavora didn’t try to hide the shock and disbelief on her face.

“He was manipulating all of us,” Obi-Wan said. “None of us knew. Not until the very end.”

“He was Sith… ” Tavora said, shaking her head. “And Darth Vader, who I keep hearing about…”

“Vader is Palpatine’s new apprentice,” Obi-Wan said, not wanting to go any further into Vader’s past. Some things were still too hard for Obi-Wan to even think about, let alone explain.

Tavora exhaled slowly. “I knew that Darth Vader had to be a Sith. No one else would be able to kill that many Jedi. But Palpatine, too… That means that the Republic, or the Empire, whatever they want to call it, is in the hands of two Sith Lords.” Tavora looked at her hands in her lap, then shook her head. “I still don’t understand,” she said. “I can’t count the number of times those clones saved my life before they tried to kill me.”

“Palpatine sent them secret orders to terminate the Jedi,” Obi-Wan said.

“And they just did it? After following our lead for three years?”

“That’s why we used clones in the first place,” Obi-Wan said sadly. “They followed any order, without question.”

Tavora fell silent, looking away. Obi-Wan wished with all of his being that he could tell her the galaxy would right itself, the Jedi Order would survive, democracy would be restored. But he knew that it was nothing more than wishful thinking. What had been was gone forever. Nothing could bring it back.

Neither of them said anything else in the hour it took to get to Obi-Wan’s hut. The speeder shuddered to a halt, and Obi-Wan walked thankfully into the blissfully cool shade of his hut. The part of his mind that was bursting with questions was already furious with him, but he forced himself to wait. There were things that needed to be done before he satisfied his own curiosity. The Tatooine suns could do terrible things to anyone not accustomed to their heat, and he hadn’t any idea how much time Tavora had spent in them before he found her. He was already retrieving a jug of water as Tavora walked in the door behind him, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the shadows.

Obi-Wan poured some of the water in to a cup and handed it to Tavora, gesturing for her to sit down. “Drink as much as you need. It’s a hot day, even for Tatooine,” he said.

“I wasn’t outside for very long before you found me, Master. I’m fine,” Tavora said, but she looked appreciative as she took a long drink from the cup.

“You’re sure?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Yes, Master, I’m fine,” she said. “At the worst, I’m feeling hungry.”

“Of course,” Obi-Wan said. “You were trying to fix that when I interrupted you.” He went to a cupboard and found a few pieces of leftover flatbread. When he turned back to give them to Tavora, her expression was dark, and she wasn’t looking at him. He sat across from her and placed the flatbread on the table in front of her, once again wishing he could find the words to reassure her. He could feel emotions rolling off of her in tumultuous confusion; guilt, anger, grief, regret, all blending together.

“I wouldn’t have done that, if I’d had another choice,” Tavora said, looking up at him. “Mind-trick someone into giving me what I need. I just… I didn’t have a lot of options…” Tavora looked away again. “I don’t like it. It feels wrong.”

“There was a time when I would have chastised a Jedi for using the Force for personal gain,” Obi-Wan said, “but many things have changed. We do what we must to survive. I don’t hold your actions against you.” Obi-Wan hoped that he could comfort her somewhat. He could see that she was confused, lost, but he did not feel the shadow of the Dark Side in her. Somehow, that almost surprised him.

Tavora didn’t respond. She picked up a piece of the flatbread and began to eat it. Obi-Wan was finding it harder and harder to be patient. Let her eat, he thought, and then you can ask your questions. When Tavora finished eating, she didn’t look up, lost in her thoughts. Obi-Wan wasn’t sure which of his questions to ask, so he decided to start at the beginning.

“How did you survive?” he asked without prelude.

Tavora didn’t respond at first, and he almost wondered if she’d heard him. After a moment, she replied simply, “I wasn’t there.” She looked up at Obi-Wan and continued. “When it happened, I just wasn’t there. And the clones never found me. I was lucky. That’s all there is to it.”

There is no luck, Obi-Wan thought, mostly out of reflex. “What happened?” he pressed.

“It’s a long story,” Tavora hesitated.

“I have nowhere to be,” Obi-Wan said.

Tavora took a deep drink of water, then sighed quietly. “I don’t know where to start.”

“The beginning?” Obi-Wan suggested unhelpfully.

Tavora studied her hands for a moment, took a deep breath, met Obi-Wan’s eyes, and began.


	2. The Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavora starts to tell her story.

I was fifteen years old when the Clone Wars started. I didn’t even know anything had happened until almost two weeks in, actually. My master, Aerdan Inaros, and I were on a mission that required us to be out of contact with the Temple during the Battle of Geonosis. We knew the Separatists had been gaining momentum, but still, to come back and find the Order at the helm of an all out galactic war was a shock. Three days later I helped lead a platoon of clones into battle for the first time.

For three years, probably one out of every two or three days I was in a battle, fighting for the safety of some planet, or defending Republic borders in some desolate area of empty space. The place was always different, as was our reason for being there, but one thing stayed the same. The Seps fought with droids. We fought with people. They were clones, bred to be soldiers, born to be expendable. But they were sentient. And every time I watched a fighter get shot down I felt a light go out in the Force. I saw a lot of good people die during the war, Jedi, clone, and otherwise. It never seemed fair to me, that we lost beings while they lost droids. The Seps could sacrifice an entire battleship, and still lose only one or two lives. How can we fight that, really? Not without viewing the clones the same way the Seps saw droids: as something which we could make more of at any time.

I never really saw them that way, though. I’ve always thought it was because I was pretty good at learning the names of the clones in my command. And not just their designation numbers. Almost all of the clones gave themselves names, so that is what I called them. When you think of the clones as a group, when you call them by their numbers, it’s easy to remain detached and see them as disposable. When you know their names, you see them as people. And when you think of them as individuals, you form relationships with them. I learned to tell the clones apart after spending some time with them, just like how people who know identical twins can differentiate between them. I considered the clones in my unit to be my friends, not just my subordinates. I can’t even count the number of times they saved my life, or Aerdan’s.

I think that knowledge made their betrayal even more painful.

Towards the end of the war, my master and I were on a series of campaigns in the Outer Rim, and we were being fairly successful. Things finally seemed to be coming out of darkness. It felt like an end to the war might be in sight. It felt easier to smile again. Aerdan told me on several occasions that he kept feeling something indistinct, but important, in the future, and that it was getting closer. He thought it meant that the war was ending, and I believed him.

We had just pushed the Separatists out of a pivotal system in the Outer Rim, and Aerdan and I were stationed on the system’s central planet. Officially, we were protecting the system until our replacements arrived, allowing us to take our troops to aid another nearby siege. Unofficially, we were getting some much needed rest. Neither of us had slept more than a couple of hours a day for weeks. Our clones weren’t in great shape either. They never would have complained if we had been shipped out immediately, but I didn’t need to use the Force to sense their relief when Aerdan told them we would be staying planetside for almost a week.

A few days later, after some solid sleep time and a couple of good meals, everyone was looking quite a bit better. The whole atmosphere seemed more energetic, despite the cold, grey weather the planet was experiencing. We were in a base that was serving as the command center for the defense of the system, located on the edge of the planet’s largest city. The base was well equipped, but it was far too small for all of the people that had crammed into it. I was quickly getting sick of the crowded, noisy base, so in the early afternoon of the third day planetside I slipped out of the base and into the blustery cold and bright sunlight outside. The wind and chill hit me as I stepped out the door, but I pulled my thick robe closer and kept walking, shaking out the cramped feeling in my legs. After a few minutes, I found a place along the outer wall of the base that was mostly protected from the wind. I sat down, leaning against the wall, and tried to clear my mind.

I don’t know how long I sat there, staring out at the city, thinking about everything and nothing. I do remember at one point looking at my chrono and realizing that six days earlier my eighteenth lifeday had passed and I hadn’t noticed. That didn’t bother me nearly as much as it would have in years past. I didn’t think about it for long. My thoughts meandered along without any real purpose to them.

I was jerked out of my reverie by a sudden, intense sensation that something was wrong. I stood up, quickly scanning my surroundings for the source. Barely a few seconds later an enormous, shuddering boom echoed from the city. My head snapped up towards the skyline, and I saw thick, black smoke begin to rise from it.

Aerdan’s voice crackled through my comlink without prelude. “I’m assuming you heard that. Do you have any idea what it was?”

“I think everyone on this hemisphere heard that, master,” I responded quickly. “I’m not sure what did it, but there’s smoke above the city.” I was already moving, acting with the smooth efficiency of someone all too well-accustomed to life-threatening situations. After some of the close calls I had survived over the years, an unexplained explosion half a mile away was not nearly enough to be very perturbing. I headed towards a group of speeder bikes and swung onto the nearest one. It hummed to life beneath me.

“I’m going to go check it out,” I told Aerdan. “It might just be some kind of accident, but somehow I doubt it.”

“Go,” Aerdan agreed, “but I’m sending a team of clones with you. You probably need the back up.”

“Yes, master,” I acknowledged, “but they’ll have to catch up.” I squeezed the throttle and shot off towards the city.

A second explosion hit almost two minutes after the first. I couldn’t tell if it was bigger than the first, or if it only seemed that way because I was closer. Regardless, I pushed my bike a little faster. As I drew deeper into the city, I began to see people everywhere, running in every direction. The sounds of panicked shouts and the shrieks of frightened children pressed in on me. Very quickly it became too crowded to maneuver on my speeder bike, so I abandoned it and continued at a run. I was getting close to what I assumed was the origin of the first explosion when a familiar sound found its way through the chaos and into my consciousness: the heavy, mechanical footsteps of battle droids. I stopped.

“Master,” I said quickly into my comlink. “We’ve got droids.”

“Seps?” He sounded surprised. “How’d they get onto the planet?”

Several streets ahead of me, droids started coming around the corner into view. “I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m going to be in serious trouble in about twenty-five seconds. Where are the clones you sent?”

“They left less than a minute ago. I don’t know if they’ll –“ His voice cut off. I heard a dull thudding noise, and then the connection was cut.

A part of my mind had already processed what had happened. I had heard blaster fire, brief but definite. There had been a slight choke in Aerdan’s voice as it cut off. The thud had had the awful, muffled quality of a body hitting the floor.

But most of me refused to accept it. It wasn’t possible. The droids couldn’t have gotten in there so fast. He was safe. He wasn’t dead.

Frantically, I reached out to Aerdan through the Force, feeling for the familiar bond that connected us so strongly. The nothingness that met me was colossal, a huge, caustic wave of emptiness that crashed over me. Suddenly I was lost, floating somewhere on a dreary planet that none of us really cared about. There was nothing, no connection for me to cling to.

I realized that I was falling just in time to catch myself. I didn’t know quite when I had lost my balance, and I suddenly noticed that I was not breathing. I drew a shuddering breath, steadied myself, and did the only thing I could do. I choked down my emotions and forced myself to think. I knew I was right when I thought that Separatist droids could not yet be in the base. There hadn’t been time, and there had been over a hundred clones between any invading droids and Aerdan. And with the chaos in the city, he would have expected an attack from any unexplained outsider. I had trouble even considering it, but as much as it made my stomach hurt to think of it, the only thing that could have gotten to him was a clone.

That realization sunk in. The droids got closer.

Another voice came through my comlink. “We’re almost to you, Commander,” a clone named Jant said. “Stay where you are. What’s the droid situation?”

I paused, not sure what to say. After a few seconds I asked “What happened to Master Inaros?” I was hoping with all of my being that there had been some sort of accident, that Jant and his men would help me. Jant didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t think he could lie to me. Maybe some part of him still couldn’t lie to someone who was once a friend. It didn’t matter.

The droids were about seventy meters away when they stopped, aiming their blasters at the fleeing crowd. In a rush of comprehension, I knew what I had to do. If I stayed, I would be found by the clones and probably killed. There was no way I could fight them all off. I dropped my comlink onto the ground and stomped on it – the fastest way to disable the tracking signal in it. I turned and took one last look at the droids and the panicked citizens. It was still in my power to help them. There wasn’t time. The pieces of my heart that had not been swallowed by the emptiness shattered in that moment as I turned away from the helpless throng of people. I picked a side street at random and sprinted down it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment if you like, I would love to hear your thoughts!


	3. Revelation

I don’t remember much of the next few hours. I recall weaving through the crowd, unnoticed in the chaos, taking turns arbitrarily. Mostly, I was trying to distract myself from the nothingness that felt like a gaping, growing hole in my chest.

I had no idea how long I had been running when I finally stopped in a deserted alleyway. I opened a door at random and went into the building. I just barely had the presence of mind to lock the door behind me. My calves burned intensely, and I was gulping at the air as though I had been underwater. Exhaustion hit me like a rockslide, trapping me under its weight.

The next thing I remember is waking up slumped against the door I had locked. I didn’t know what time it was, as my comlink had been crushed, but it was night. The room was dark, but there were some windows, and enough light came in from the streetlamps that I didn’t bother to find a light switch. My legs ached, and my throat felt dry and cracked from thirst. I looked around the room. It appeared to be the back room of some sort of shop. A table and a couple of chairs took up most of the small space. On the other side of the table, an open door led into the shop. The room beyond was filled with shelves, but it was too dark for me to see what was on them. The wall opposite me was filled by a counter with cabinets under it. On one end of the counter stood an old holovision set with a remote control sitting next to it. On the other end was a small conservator, several boxes of some kind of protein bar, and a scattering of empty wrappers. I went to the conservator immediately. In it were a number of bottles of water, a few types of fruit, and a jar of a strange, green-gray substance with a label in a language I couldn’t read. I grabbed one of the bottles and drank the whole thing. The cold liquid tasted heavenly. I didn’t care that it was dribbling down my chin because I was trying to drink too fast. As I set the empty bottle down on the counter, my stomach rumbled audibly. I glanced down at it, annoyed, and took a protein bar from one of the boxes. I unwrapped it and tried to think.

The clones had betrayed us. I couldn’t think of a single reason why they would, but they had killed- ….I tried not to think about him. I would deal with my grief later. The emptiness ached where my perpetual bond with Aerdan used to be, and it did not want to be ignored. I closed my eyes and forced my mind to work.

I needed to contact the Council. They would know what to do. I had to tell them what had happened here. They needed to know that the clones could not be trusted. A sudden thought hit me. What if I was not the only one? I couldn’t even fathom what would have turned the clones’ loyalty, but if my men would betray me, maybe I was not alone. What if the clones in other commands had also turned against the Jedi? How many could they have killed?

I leaned against the table behind me, my mind racing. My plan had to stay the same: make contact with the Council. They would know what to do. Maybe this was an isolated incident. Still, this presented a problem. My usual form of communication with Coruscant was behind an army that recently tried to kill me. I had never been forced to use any other variety of interplanetary communication, and I wasn’t sure where to go. Now that I thought about it, I wasn’t even sure if CIS or Republic forces were in control of the city. I hadn’t waited to see the outcome of the battle. I supposed that it didn’t make much difference to me at this point.

As I leaned back against the counter, my hand bumped the remote control of the holovision, turning it on. I turned to look at it as it crackled to life, showing a serious-looking, articulate woman who I assumed was a reporter.

“-has left the Galactic Republic in shock. In light of the revelation of the Jedi Council’s deplorable actions, Chancellor Palpatine has declared all Jedi enemies of the state.” The woman continued talking as shaky footage of clone troopers marching up the steps of the Temple played. “In a daring raid of the Jedi Temple, the 501st Legion, led-“ A red lightsaber ignited, and the troopers opened fire. “-by Darth Vader eliminated the Jedi threat in the capital.” Blue and green lightsabers began to flicker as the clones advanced. “As you can see, Republic forces quickly overwhelmed the Jedi stronghold.” The screen showed a clip of the Temple from a distance. Fire was visible in places, and black smoke gushed from the towers. “Reports are continuing to come in, but it seems that while the majority of the Jedi have been neutralized, there are still a significant number at large.”  The woman returned and continued to talk in the same grim tone. “According to a senatorial representative, the Chancellor is committed to bringing the remaining Jedi to justice, with General Vader and the 501st in command of the pursuit.”

The woman kept talking, but I don’t remember anything else she said.

At first, all I could feel was panic. My mind was racing faster than the rest of me could keep up. Some part of me that knew all of this was wrong. It was a lie, a mistake, something… This couldn’t possibly be true. It couldn’t. Blaster fire in the halls of the Temple, its towers in flames… no… no! Behind every thought was pure, untempered terror. It overwhelmed me. Suddenly I wanted to run, run far away and hide, because I could not come up with a response to the panic but to get out, get away, and leave this behind.

But something kept me from running. Somewhere underneath the shock, logic, reason, and intellect were fighting for control. I knew I couldn’t run without somewhere to go. I couldn’t just take off into a city surrounded by Republic forces that most likely intended to execute me. This part of my mind wrestled with the fear, screaming at me to think.

In the third part of my mind there was nothing. I don’t know when I noticed it. It could have been days later, or it could have been seconds, but it was there. It was not simply unoccupied. No, it was hugely, achingly empty. This part of my mind was where my strong, steady bond with Aerdan used to be. It was where I kept thoughts of my friends and the times we shared before the war. It was the part of me that held my connection to the entire Order, my only family. It was the part that hoped, dreamed, and believed in a better future. And it was empty. Suddenly, savagely empty.

For a long time I just stood there, reeling in shock. I knew with a dark certainty that the clones were looking for me. Even if they didn’t find me, I didn’t want to be around in the morning to explain what I was doing to whoever owned this shop. But where could I go? The Temple was gone. Nowhere was safe. My thoughts raced, fear and confusion feeding each other until they became too much. I was shaking. I sat down of the floor to keep from falling over. Soon after, my mind and body turned to the only thing that could distance me from the pain. I slid into unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you've gotten this far, you might as well leave a comment. :)


	4. The Dancing Bantha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter contains something that could be triggering, but since it's a spoiler too I'm going to put the warning in the end notes. Please check it out if you're worried at all.

When I woke up next, early morning light was beginning to some in the window. It occurred to me that someone might come open up the shop I was hiding in. It would be better to be gone when that happened. As sleep faded, the fears of the previous night returned.

In my head images of clones turning on Jedi flashed by. I fought to compartmentalize my emotions. Maybe if I could get off the planet, I could find what was left of the Order... I closed my eyes, trying to think, but all I could see was the Temple in flames, smoke billowing out of it. I was beginning to panic. I had to get out of here…. Then a name appeared in my mind with sudden firmness. Rolen. If I could get to him, he could help me. I needed to go to the planet Orszi.

Rolen was… well, not so much a friend. More like a friend of a friend. He owned a bar near a starport on Orszi, an Inner Rim planet that was a frequent stop for merchants and travelers. Despite its terrible name, The Dancing Bantha, it was a pretty decent little cantina. It was always full of pilots coming and going, completely unaware that it was one of dozens of unofficial Jedi outposts scattered throughout the Galaxy. He never had any formal communication with the Order, but unofficially he was another resource for Knights in the field. He would pass along whatever information or supplies were needed, and would be reimbursed later off the record. My master had considered him a friend, though he had told me that he had no idea how Rolen came to be a friend of the Jedi. Aerdan had met him through his master.

I had visited The Dancing Bantha more than a handful of times for various reasons. Since the war started, though, I hadn’t been in the area. I hadn’t seen Rolen in years. Still, as the thought of him stayed in my mind, I felt more and more sure that he was my solution. Somehow just having a plan made the fear manageable.

It was mostly luck that brought me to the spaceport unnoticed. The shop I was hiding in turned out to be a clothing store, so I was able to change from my Jedi robe into something less distinguishable. Even so, at one point I was sure I had been seen. As I ducked into an alley to crouch in the darkness, though, the patrol of clone troopers passed by without a glance. It wasn’t hard to find a transport to Orszi. War hadn’t been kind to the city I was in, and refugees were fleeing to any planet willing to take them. I found a passenger freighter that was getting ready to leave and snuck on through the cargo bay.

The trip was long. I remember feeling like I was dreaming. I kept expecting to just… wake up. To find myself back in the base, or in the Temple, and Aerdan would tell me none of this was real. But if it was a dream, I couldn’t wake myself.

*****

It was late morning when we landed on Orszi. I forced myself to focus as I walked through the spaceport, trying to look unremarkable. For ten torturous minutes I made my way to towards the Dancing Bantha, sure that I would be recognized as a Jedi. It took all of my willpower not to glance nervously over my shoulder every few steps, but no one took any notice of me.

The Dancing Bantha was mostly empty, which was a relief. I sat at the bar and looked around. I didn’t see Rolen. Anxiety started to swell inside me again. What if he wasn’t here? If the Jedi were being hunted, then an ally like Rolen must be in danger too. What if he had been found? I was beginning to panic when a door behind the bar opened and Rolen walked through it, carrying several bottles. He looked just like he always had, unremarkable. His short brown hair was flecked with grey, but his age was always hard to determine. Somehow seeing him there, looking completely normal, like life hadn’t been turned upside down a few days ago, was intensely comforting.

Rolen put the bottles down on the bar and looked up at me. I thought he might have been surprised to see me, but he just looked at me passively, like he didn’t know me at all. “Can I get you something?”

He had a code he used if there were people he didn’t know or didn’t trust around. Different drinks meant different things. There were only a couple of other people in the bar, but I went along with it anyway. “South Correllian Ale?” I said. I was asking for information.

Rolen shook his head. “I haven’t gotten a new shipment of that in a while.”

“What about Mandelorian Firewater?” This time I asked for a destination. Maybe he knew where the rest of the Jedi were going.

“What makes you think I have any of that if I couldn’t get any Correllian Ale?”

I was starting to get flustered. “Well, what can you give me?”

Rolen looked me straight in the eyes, but his voice remained nonchalant. “Not much, kid.”

“Rolen, I need something. Anything.”

Rolen just looked at me for a moment, then nodded towards the door behind the bar. “Alright. Why don’t you come back to the store room and see if there’s anything you want.”

I followed him through the door, past the kitchen and a set of stairs going down to a basement, and into his cluttered office. He shut the door firmly and then turned to look at me. “I don’t know what you want me to do, kid. I don’t have any information for you,” he said.

“Nothing?” I asked. “You don’t know where the survivors are trying to meet?”

“Right now there’s only one Jedi that I know is alive. You.”

“Didn’t Palpatine swear to find all of us? That means there are other survivors, right?” I said.

“Yeah, there are other survivors,” Rolen responded, “but I don’t know who or where or how to contact them. Right after it happened the Temple was broadcasting a general recall, everyone come back to Coruscant, but it changed not too long after that. Now it just says ‘danger, stay away.’”

“But…” I didn’t know what to say. I looked down. What else could I do? Where else could I go? I was out of options.

Rolen sighed. “I’m sorry, Tavora. I really am. I assume… since Aerdan isn’t here with you, I assume that he didn’t make it.”

I didn’t look up. That wasn’t something I could respond to. Not now. Not yet.

“I’m sorry,” Rolen said again. He meant it, but it didn’t help. “But this has to be the last time we see each other.”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“The best thing you can do right now is hide. It’s the only way you’re going to survive.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “No. Jedi don’t hide from their problems.”

“They do now,” Rolen said to me. “They hide or they die.”

“I can’t just give up.”

“I don’t like it either. But look. I don’t know who’s behind this but they really knew what they were doing. The Jedi are most powerful when you work together, so they scattered you and cut your lines of communication. They’ll know that you’ll try to fight back, and they’ll be ready. It’s not a fight you can win. You’re so outnumbered that even the Force can’t save you.”

Rolen was right. I knew very well how many thousands of clone troopers were at the command of the Republic, and the facility on Kamino was continuing to provide even more.

Rolen continued. “If you decide to hide, I can help you. I still have some connections and supplies. I could get you a new identity and passage to somewhere a good distance from the Core. There are so many refugees from the war, it won’t be hard to blend in.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even look at him. I leaned against the wall, staring at nothing, trying to think of any other option. But I knew there weren’t any. Rolen had been my last hope.

“I’ll let you think for a bit.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he turned and open the door. After a moment he turned back around and looked at me quizzically. “When’s the last time you ate, Tavora?”

I blinked. The question caught me off guard. “Uhm…”

“If you have to think about it, it’s been too long. I’ll bring you something. Stay here.” And he left.

I slumped to the ground, staring at the wall opposite me without really seeing. I still felt like my mind had been split in three pieces. The part of me that was overwhelmed by panic was shouting, trying to drown out the part that kept counseling logic and patience. But right now neither of them was winning. The third part, the nothingness that felt like a gaping hole in my chest, didn’t war with the other two at all but beat them anyway. It just sat there, quietly, bigger than anything I’d ever felt, silently dominating my thoughts. This was it. Everything I had left in the universe was sitting in the back room of some seedy bar. The Order was gone, and with it everything I knew. I wanted to be angry. I wanted to be filled with some kind of righteous fury, because maybe that would keep me going. But I wasn’t. I just felt profoundly empty.

After a while Rolen came back with a plate of food. He handed it to me and then leaned against his desk on the opposite side of the small office. “If we’re lucky, it’ll take about a day to get everything together. You’ll have a new name and a new past. I can’t give you much of a paper trail this quickly, though, so if anyone digs too deeply into your history they won’t find much record of you. But lots of people have lost documents in the war. You won’t be the only one.” He studied me for a moment. “We should change your hair. Maybe dye it. Make you look a little different.”

I reached up to touch my padawan braid and looked up at Rolen.

“Yeah, that should go too,” he said. “Sorry.”

I just nodded.

“I know this is a lot to process, Tavora, but time isn’t a luxury we have a lot of. You need to disappear sooner rather than later if you’re going to stand a chance.” He paused for a moment, and then said, “Honestly, I think the best thing you can do for the Jedi Order right now is just stay alive. Because maybe someday… I mean, you can’t help rebuild anything if you’re not around.”

That resonated with me. Intellectually, at least. Survive for now so you can help later. It made sense. And what else could I do? I had no resources beyond what Rolen was offering me.

After a minute I looked up at Rolen again and nodded. “Alright.”

“Good,” Rolen replied. “You should stay here until I’ve got your documents together. The fewer people who see you the safer you’ll be for now. There’s a ‘fresher and a couple of couches downstairs.” He started typing into a datapad, and I took that as my cue to leave him to work.

*****

It took a day and a half for him to invent a new life for me. He forged identification from a planet that had been hit especially hard in the war, knowing that I could blend into the thousands of other refugees. We cut my hair to my shoulders and died it from blonde to a nondescript shade of brown. Rolen constructed a past for me, a family and a home that I’d lost. The whole thing felt strange, but somehow the more I got to know my new me, the easier it became. It wasn’t the first time I’d been undercover. As we got closer to completing my forgeries, I wanted more and more to just get this transition over with. I wanted my new identity to be a mask that I could hide behind.

By the next afternoon everything was almost done. Rolen was out getting some supplies for me, and I was sitting on the floor in the hallway outside his office looking at the ident card he’d given me. My picture was on it, looking a little like a stranger with my new hair, but that wasn’t what held my attention. I kept staring at the name next to it. Ethenna Drand. I said it quietly to myself a few times, trying to get the feel of the syllables. I didn’t hate it, which I suppose was the most I could have hoped for.

Rolen walked in then and handed me a grey backpack. I opened it and rifled through its contents: some clothes, a hairbrush, a couple of bottles of water and some protein bars, and a few other odds and ends. “There’s an inner pocket towards the bottom,” he explained. “I figured you could hide your lightsaber in there.” I pulled my lightsaber off of my belt. I’d completely forgotten about hiding it. I slid it into the bag, but I immediately felt a little naked without it hanging at my hip.

“Can you think of anything else you’ll need? Within reason,” Rolen asked.

I shook my head. “Thank you, Rolen. For everything.”

He grunted. “Yeah, well…” He trailed off uncomfortably, and then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "This is a ticket for a spot on a freighter to Vashalla. There are a lot of refugees heading there. It’s fairly well populated, but it’s out on the inner rim. I figured a little distance between you and the Republic might be a good thing.”

I took the ticket and stuck it into a pocket.

“Oh, and I was going to give you a few credits. Just a minute.” He walked back into the bar. I put my ident into the backpack and zipped it up. I kind of felt like this ought to have been a poignant moment, but I didn’t feel much of anything about it.

Suddenly Rolen was rushing back into the hallway. His face had gone pale and his eyes were wide. “Hide,” he whispered urgently, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. “Now, go!” He shoved me towards his office.

“Rolen, what-“

“Don’t come out.” Rolen shut the door to his office, and I heard him lock it a second later. For a second I just stood there, staring at the door with my mouth hanging open. Then I heard a crash.

Heavy footsteps sounded in the hallway, and I froze, not even daring to breathe. I knew those footsteps. I’d heard them every day for the last three years. Clones.

“You have been accused of aiding and abetting traitors to the Republic,” a clone trooper said. “You will come with us to stand trial for your crimes.”

“What?” I heard Rolen gasp. “Traitors? What traitors?”

I had backed up into the corner, with Rolen’s desk between me and the door, but there was nowhere to hide. I reached towards him with my senses, extending my will into the Force. I could feel six troopers, though their presence felt like almost a shadow compared to Rolen’s. He overflowed with fear and panic, but the troopers were calm and sedate, as though nothing at all was wrong with threatening a peaceful man.

I heard a hit land, and knew one of them had struck Rolen. “You are a well-known ally of the Jedi,” the trooper said. “You have passed information for them for years, and now you’re suspected of harboring fugitives.” There was another impact, this one against the door. I cringed at the thought of Rolen being shoved into the heavy wooden door and held there. “What information do you have from the Jedi?” the trooper demanded. “Where are they hiding?”

“Jedi?” Rolen said, his voice strained. He was in pain, I could feel it. “I don’t know anything about the Jedi. I haven’t seen any, I swear.”

There was a sickening crunch, and Rolen cried out. “Please! Please, I swear! I don’t know anything!”

I was starting to feel sick. I took a step forward, wanting to do something to help Rolen, but the clone spoke again and I couldn’t make myself move. “You’re lying,” he said easily. “Where are the Jedi?”

Rolen was struggling to breathe. “Okay,” he panted. “Okay, I’ll show you.” I tensed, looking around. There was nowhere for me to go, not even a window to escape through. If Rolen opened the door for them, I would be dead. But then Rolen kept talking. “I’ve got transmissions from what’s left of the council. They’re downstairs. Just- just let me go, I’ll show you.”

“Good,” the clone trooper said, and I heard him release Rolen. I let out a slow breath. I wasn’t sure how much good it would do, but Rolen had bought time.

I heard a familiar click, and my heart stopped again. “Put down the blaster,” I heard the clone say, practically laughing. I could imagine why. Six clone troopers with assault rifles against a bartender with what sounded like a hand gun.

“No,” Rolen said, his voice low and firm, despite the undercurrent of fear that was still there. Something about him changed, I could feel it. He was determined, but I didn’t know why. I could feel the clones reacting, too. Whatever he was doing, they hadn’t expected it.

“You don’t want to do that,” their leader said slowly.

“Yes, I do,” Rolen said. “Because you’re right. I know a lot about the Jedi. I know their tendencies and their hideouts and safe houses. But I’m not like them. I can’t withstand whatever torture you’ve got planned. And I am not going to help you hunt them down.” My eyes widened. No, no was he-?

“Don’t-“ the clone started, but it was cut off by a single, almost quiet shot from a blaster. I heard Rolen collapse against the door, and the clone swore.

It took a second, but I felt Rolen die. With my senses extended as they were, I couldn’t help it. I felt Rolen’s pain and fear and determination start to fade away as his life-force was quickly extinguished.

For a long moment I just stood there, unable to move, barely able to think. Then panic flooded me. My breaths started coming faster and faster. I could feel my hands shaking. Rolen was dead. My last ally. Dead. Dead because he was defending me. And I was going to die, too. There was nowhere to go, I was outnumbered, my lightsaber still tucked away in my backpack. I couldn’t get it out without making noise, and that would alert the troopers to where I was.

The voice of the clone in command pulled me back into reality and grounded me there. “You two, search the basement, see if he had anything useful. You check the kitchens, you check out there, and you check that back room.” There was a brief chorus of ‘yes sir’s and then footsteps headed off in different directions. Only one stayed near the door. I could hear him moving Rolen’s body out of the way.

I took a breath and exhaled slowly. There was only one. I could do this. Just one. The panic receded enough for me to think. I took another breath, and with it reached into the Force. I drew on it, letting it flow through me and consume me. I had only one shot, that much I knew. Fighting my way out wouldn’t work. If I killed the trooper, the others would realize I was there. Even if I got away from them, it would give away my location. I still might get off-planet, but there were only so many destinations I could go to, and the clones had the resources to search for me.

No, my only option was to never be found.

But I knew the clones. I knew them inside and out, after three years. They were bred to be suggestible.

It took less than a minute for the clone to move Rolen and then shoot the lock. The door swung inwards, and I held my breath. The trooper stepped in, his eyes scanning the room. In a second, his gaze landed on me, but I was ready for him.

“The room is empty,” I murmured. The strength of my will hit him like an avalanche. He froze, staring at me. I pulled on the Force, pouring it into his mind, overwhelming him. He shuddered visibly. But I didn’t pull back. “There is nothing useful here. This room is empty.”

The clone trooper blinked, and then his eyes slid away from me. He glanced over the papers and datapads scattered over the desk again and then headed back out the door. A moment later I heard him call to his commander, “The room’s empty, sarge. There’s nothing useful there.”

I let out a slow, shuddering breath, and leaned back against the wall. My legs gave out a second later, and I slid to the floor. I was exhausted. I could feel the adrenaline dissipating, leaving me feeling sick to my stomach.

I stayed there, huddled in the corner, until long after the troopers had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: minor character commits suicide. 
> 
> Ok, I'm done torturing Tavora for now, I promise. :D  
> Well, other than her PTSD.  
> By the way, I feel like maybe I should make a note about that. She's been showing PTSD symptoms already, and it's definitely going to continue, but she's not actually going to get diagnosed with it, most likely. (Although, who knows, maybe. It's not like they don't have psychology in the SW universe.) I'm going to do my best to treat the subject carefully and respectfully, and I have done and will continue to do research on it. That said, a lot of her symptoms are based on my own experiences with depression and anxiety.  
> If mental health issues are triggering for anyone, consider this a blanket warning for this entire fic. The narrator is not mentally healthy. I will try to tag any chapters that are specifically rough though, panic attacks or things of that nature.
> 
> Thanks for reading! You came this far, you may as well comment! (Comments and kudos motivate me to write more, so if you want to see more, please please please come bug me.)

**Author's Note:**

> I have the first several chapters of this written, but it's not complete. If people like it, though, I'll keep working on it! Please comment, as this is my first fic and I would love feedback!


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